She headed for the door, then stopped. "And Sosa? Whatever you planning for Zach, just make sure you actually think it through this time. I can't have you fucking up my club again."
"Your club?" I smirked.
"Our club or whatever." She rolled her eyes. "Just be smart."
"Always am."
She left, and I sat there alone, looking at Nia's card again. Everything was about to shift in my favor; I could feel it. I just had to play my cards right.
CHAPTER TEN
Yah-Yah
I was sliding my nude YSL heels back on when Mr. Clyde cleared his throat from the bed. I glanced over my shoulder at him, he was sitting up against the headboard now, his hair all disheveled. The sheets were pulled up to his waist, and he had that satisfied look on his face that told me I'd done my job right.
"Leaving already, beautiful?" he asked, his voice still a little breathless.
"Mhm," I hummed, standing up and smoothing down my dress. It was a tight little cream-colored knit sweater dress that hugged every curve just right. I walked over to the full-length mirror by the bathroom, checking my reflection. My lace front was still laid perfectly, baby hairs swooped, lips still glossy even after everything. I looked good as fuck, like I always did.
The Waldorf-Astoria suite was nice as hell. floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Michigan Ave, all that luxury hotel shit that made you feel rich even if you was just visiting. The city lights twinkled outside, and I could see people walking around down there, probably heading to dinner or some bougie-ass show. Meanwhile, I was up here getting to the money.
"You know something, you always look stunning," Mr. Clyde said, watching me touch up my lip gloss in the mirror.
"Thank you, baby," I said sweetly, puckering my lips at my reflection. I wasn't really feeling him like that tonight. Honestly I just wasn’t in the mood to entertain, but I knew I needed the money.
I grabbed my little Chanel purse off the dresser and pulled out my phone to check the time. It was almost midnight. I still had to Uber back to the crib, and I couldn’t wait. I wanted to take off all this makeup, and climb in my bed.
"Yah-Yah, wait a moment," Mr. Clyde said, and something in his tone made me pause.
I turned around, one hand on my hip. "What's up?"
"I have a proposition for you," he started, "and before you say anything, just hear me out."
I raised an eyebrow, my interest piqued. Propositions usually meant more money, and I was always here for more money.
"I'm listening."
"There's a charity gala coming up in two weeks. A Police Captain's Ball, very high-profile event. All of Chicago's elite will be there, politicians, business owners, prominent figures in law enforcement, and I need a date."
"You want me to come with you? Like, as your escort?"
"Precisely. You'd be on my arm for the evening. It’s just a few cocktails, dinner, dancing, and socializing. It’s a very elegant event. I would need you to look the part, of course, but I don't think that would be a problem for you."
I tilted my head, thinking. Going to some fancy ball with rich people wasn't exactly my idea of a good time, but then again, neither was half the shit I did for money.
"And you gon’ pay me?"
"Of course." He smiled. "I was thinking... six times your normal rate. For the entire evening."
Six times? I did the math real quick in my head and had to stop myself from grinning.
"Six times," I repeated, just to make sure I heard him right.
"Six times," he confirmed. "I'll also cover the cost of your dress, hair, makeup, nails, whatever you need to prepare. I want you to look absolutely perfect."
"I always look perfect, boo," I said with a little smirk, and he chuckled.
"That you do. So... what do you say?"